Chapter 79: Chapter 79
Quinn sat motionless in a state-of-the-art electric wheelchair, her frame swallowed by a simple, unadorned white dress. Her once-flowing hair had been harshly shorn, the jagged ends barely brushing her ears.
A thick square of medical gauze masked her left cheek, concealing an eight-centimeter scar that ran like a fissure through her former beauty.
Although the reconstructive surgeons had done everything possible after her admission to the hospital, the wound had been far too severe. Worse, she had languished in unsanitary conditions for days after the initial injury. The subsequent infection had made deep, permanent scarring unavoidable. The damage would stay with her for the rest of her life.
When Mrs. Lander opened the door, her eyes widened in profound surprise. "Miss Quinn? What... what brings you here?"
"I’m here to see Robin," Quinn said, her voice soft and entirely composed.
Despite her current state—battered, broken, and a pitiful shadow of the elegant woman she used to be—she still carried herself with the absolute authority of Robin’s mother.
"I brought him some new toys."
The moment she finished speaking, the caregiver standing behind her stepped forward, holding out several high-end shopping bags.
"Hello. These are gifts Miss Quinn picked out for young master Robin."
Mrs. Lander was not privy to the cold, legal arrangements between Dylan and Quinn. She only knew that Robin called this woman "Mom."
She had also heard whispers from Oliver that Dylan’s recent hospitalization was somehow tied to Quinn. From the little she could piece together, Quinn clearly held a powerful, precarious place in Dylan’s life, and offending her was the last thing Mrs. Lander wanted to do.
"Mr. Bennett is away on an international business trip," the housekeeper said, stepping aside to grant them entry. "Please, come in, Miss Quinn. Robin is in the living room."
"I know," Quinn replied smoothly. She maneuvered her wheelchair forward with the joystick on the armrest. "Dylan told me before he left. That’s exactly why I was so worried. With his father gone, I couldn’t stop thinking about how lonely Robin must be."
She wheeled herself deeper into the manor. Carrying the heavy gift bags, Mrs. Lander hurried ahead toward the living room. "Robin, sweetheart, look who’s here to see you."
The little boy had been curled up on the rug, deeply absorbed in a picture book. At the sound of the housekeeper’s voice, he looked up. The moment his eyes fell upon Quinn, he froze entirely.
Guiding her wheelchair closer, Quinn stopped directly in front of him, looking down with a practiced, melancholic tenderness.
"What is it, Robin? Are you so happy to see Mommy that you’ve forgotten how to speak?"
The boy’s lips trembled. Then, his large eyes instantly filled with tears.
"Mommy..." A ragged sob escaped him. He dropped his book and rushed forward, burying his face in her lap. "Mommy, I thought you didn’t want me anymore... I thought you abandoned me like everyone else..."
Quinn wrapped her arms around his small frame and gently stroked his back, whispering soft, rhythmic words of comfort into his hair.
Standing nearby, Mrs. Lander watched the emotional reunion and couldn’t help but sigh heavily. The relationships within this family were tangled beyond belief, a web of secrets and high-stakes games—and trapped right in the center of it was a fragile child. No wonder Robin constantly struggled.
. . .
That night, Quinn stayed.
Her reasoning to the staff was simple and flawless: Dylan was overseas, and a grieving, anxious Robin needed maternal companionship.
Although Mrs. Lander felt the sudden arrangement was highly inappropriate given Dylan’s absence, she couldn’t ignore how desperately attached Robin was to the woman. In the end, she chose not to object.
Still, the housekeeper remained cautious. Later that evening, she quietly retreated to the hallway and called Dylan’s private line. The call went straight to voicemail. Realizing he was likely occupied in a boardroom and mindful of the massive time difference, she decided to send a text message instead:
[Mr. Bennett, Miss Quinn came by the manor today. She mentioned that since you are away, Robin needs someone with him. She will be staying here temporarily for the next few days.]
After hitting send, Mrs. Lander let out a weary, bone-deep sigh. Being a housekeeper in this family was enough to keep anyone’s nerves constantly on edge.
By nine o’clock that evening, the manor had fallen completely silent. In one of the second-floor guest bedrooms, Robin lay tucked securely beneath the covers while Quinn sat beside the bed in her wheelchair, an illustrated storybook balanced in her hands.
Her voice flowed through the dimly lit room like a soft, soothing melody as she read aloud. Before long, Robin’s eyelids grew heavy, and within minutes, his breathing evened out into deep sleep.
The room became perfectly still.
Quinn slowly closed the book and set it face-down on the nightstand. She turned her gaze toward the sleeping child, and the maternal warmth she had painstakingly performed all evening vanished from her face like smoke.
Gone was the doting mother. What remained in the shadows was cold, desperate calculation. And unyielding ambition.
Robin’s psychological dependence on her was the very last card she held in her hand. Her final bargaining chip. She had to ensure that the boy became so utterly reliant on her presence that he could not function without her. Only then might Dylan abandon any thoughts of cutting her loose and sending her away.
Yesterday, after being discharged from the hospital and returning to her residence, she had been hit with several devastating pieces of news.
The nanny had been summarily dismissed. Even worse, the woman’s covert abuse of Robin had been fully exposed, and Dylan had already ensured she was handed over to the criminal authorities. Immediately after, Robin had been officially moved back to the high-security walls of Bennett Manor.
But that wasn’t the worst of it.
Early this morning, Oliver had arrived at her door carrying three life-altering items: a signed check worth ten million dollars, a formal termination agreement, and a one-way plane ticket out of the country.
Oliver’s message from his boss had been blunt and unyielding: Dylan no longer needed her. He no longer required a human shield, nor did he need her to continue living under the false identity of "Robin’s mother."
The bitter truth was, none of this should have surprised her. Every single condition had been clearly outlined in the original contract they signed five years ago. Her role from the very beginning had been simple, dangerous, and transactional.
She was bait—a carefully chosen, highly publicized lure meant to draw out the shadowy masterminds behind the kidnapping that had nearly destroyed Dylan’s family five years ago.
The deal had always been absolute: once the objective was achieved, she would take her millions, leave the country, and finally free herself from the parasitic biological family that had drained her dry her entire life. That had been the plan.
And now, Dylan intended to collect on the contract.
